


iced coffee

by worstgirl



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Anxiety, Barista Jake, Depression, Jeremy Is Emo, Jeremy’s Dad is trying, M/M, angst with eventual happy ending, coffee shop AU, deere, dillinjer - Freeform, everyone blames jeremy, jakemy, jake’s a himbo, jeremy heere pity party club, post-musical, post-show
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:55:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26569897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worstgirl/pseuds/worstgirl
Summary: Three months after the play, Jeremy’s friends stop talking to him, one by one. He finishes out his junior year friendless and alone, retreating into his shell even further than he ever has. It takes Jake and his job at the coffee shop close to Jeremy’s house to bring him out.
Relationships: Jeremy Heere & Jake Dillinger, Jeremy Heere/Jake Dillinger
Comments: 18
Kudos: 43





	1. one

It had been three months since the hospital. For a few weeks, Jeremy was… okay. Not great, but he was alright. And then one by one, his friends stopped talking to him. First it was Michael— he only responded to texts with short sentences, even if Jeremy had just sent him something he found funny. And capital letters. And then he stopped responding altogether, leaving Jeremy on read for the next week, and then Jeremy gave up. 

Christine was next, telling him gently on a date to the movies that she didn’t see this working out. The way she looked at him made his heart twist into a pretzel, like she was ripping it apart and putting it back together again. She gave him one last soft kiss on his cheek, and she left him standing there, embarrassingly wanting to cry next to a huge poster of Kylo Ren in the middle of the lobby. Fun. He’d had to bolt to his dad’s car to avoid breaking down in public. 

Then came Brooke, who just stopped texting. Then Jenna, who didn’t talk to him much in the first place, but she was quickly becoming one of the last people who didn’t avoid him at school, until she ignored him during physics. Rich didn’t look at him at lunch, and Jeremy’s spot at the table was slowly filled by Michael. Which he didn’t blame, but it still felt like a tiny ball of lead in the pit of his stomach. 

He started eating in the bathroom, a la Cady Heron. He wondered vaguely if this was how Michael felt. And then he felt even more shitty. He didn’t blame Michael for hating him now. This felt like hell. But he hated himself more than any of his… ex-friends, he guessed. 

Summer rolled around, and his dad finally pushed him out of the house. “Go hang out with Michael or something, laying in bed all day can’t be good for you.” There were so many bitter retorts he could have thrown at him then, but he did what he was told. He didn’t care about the summer heat, he just wanted the security of his hoodie pulled around him like he was being held. Hoodies reminded him of Michael, which reminded him of all the shitty things he’d done, which made him want to bolt back home and tell his dad everything that had happened. But that was nearly two months ago. He should be over it. It was what he deserved after everything he’d done. 

Finally after wandering the sidewalks of town, he nearly tripped over a sandwich board for a cafe. Iced coffee sounded nice right now, actually. He had money in his pocket. He probably looked like absolute shit, but it was ten in the morning on a summer day. Everyone looked like shit, right? So he pushed the door open, joining the line and staring at his phone. He’d unfollowed everyone on instagram a month ago, and he didn’t want to follow anyone back— they were mostly private, and they’d definitely notice and reject him anyways. So he just had a blank feed, and no messages. And no one had texted him in almost two weeks other than his dad. And he’d archived all his posts, even the ones from when he was twelve with Michael and him making dumb faces at the camera. He should just delete the app, but he was still waiting for someone to message him. 

They never did. 

He found himself at the front of the line, and a familiar voice said his name. Jeremy looked up and he felt his heart drop to his gut. 

Jake Dillinger stood there, apron and visor looking somehow effortlessly cool on him. Maybe it was the fact that he was smiling. Jeremy glanced over his shoulder. Was Rich behind him, or Chloe, or Brooke— but no. There was no one in line behind him. Jake was smiling at him. 

The smile on Jake’s face faltered a bit when Jeremy looked back at him. What was going on? Did Jake not get the memo to join the Jeremy hate club? 

“Are you okay, man? You look like shit.” 

Well, that felt great. Jeremy didn’t speak for a moment. Sure, he did follow that up with the fact that Jeremy looked terrible, but he… sounded genuinely concerned. 

“Yeah. Medium iced coffee please.” He said, keeping his eyes fixed on the counter, his hands in his pockets. 

There was silence for a moment, before Jake seemed to continue what he was doing. “Okay, that’ll be, uh, 3.24.” If Jeremy didn’t know better, he’d say Jake sounded concerned. He pushed a five across the counter, still not looking up. He couldn’t do it, not even when Jake handed him his change back. 

“If you move down the counter, I’ll make it for you.” Jeremy did so, looking up at Jake as he worked. He hadn’t even known Jake had a job, he never mentioned it. Well, he might have, but Jeremy wouldn’t remember it. For a moment, he wondered if this was the universe’s way of telling him to get a job. Or get a life. If Jake had a job, then he definitely should. But considering that he barely forced himself out of his room on good days, he didn’t think that a job was in the cards. He’d just end up making everyone hate him, getting fired, and curling up in his room again. 

Then Jake was in front of him, giving him that same smile. “Hey.” He slid a cup and a bag over to Jeremy. “Here’s your order.” 

Jeremy’s eyes locked with Jake’s for a moment, and he was hyperaware of the fact that Jake’s eyes were very blue, with little flecks of green and yellow every so often, and— wait. A bag? “I didn’t order—“

“On the house. It’s okay. Employees get the food, like, half off, it’s not a big deal.” 

“No, I can pay you ba—“ He started, but Jake shook his head. 

“Nah, it’s not a big deal anyways. You looked… upset. Thought you needed a pick me up.” Jake glanced over, seeing that there was a line steadily growing. “Ah, I’ll be right back. Enjoy!”

And then he disappeared, leaving Jeremy standing there with a bag and a coffee cup that was making his hand cold and wet. He looked around, finding a small table in the corner. Prime anxious teen territory. He made his way there, sliding into the booth, trying to process everything. 

Jake didn’t seem to outwardly hate him. He seemed… nice, actually. Why wasn’t he treating Jeremy like the scum of the earth, all their friends— no, Jake’s friends— ignored him. So why the hell was Jake… being so sweet? He pulled out the bag, opening it. Chocolate chip muffin, complete with crystallized sugar on top. It looked good, and it was warm, and he hadn’t had one of these in ages… but he couldn’t possibly take it, not with Jake’s money paying for it. 

He set it aside, pulling the iced coffee close to him, checking his messages. None. Again. Why did he even check anymore? Then he got a text as he left the app, and— 

Oh. 

It was his dad. 

**_Dad :_ ** _ Hey kiddo just checking up on you you doing okay? _

Jeremy glanced at the counter, at Jake, who was smiling at the middle aged woman who was clearly flattered by something he’d said. Jake had a way with making people feel like they were special. Once he remembered that, he didn’t feel as good about it. Jake just treated him like he treated everyone, right? 

But he glanced back at the muffin. 

**_Jeremy :_ ** _ yeah i’m okay. im at my friend jakes work, got a coffee. should be home sometime later.  _

It would be easy to pretend that he had friends, right? He’d played off him playing stupid texting games as texting his friends, that hadn’t texted him in ages, so his dad wouldn’t get worried. Now that he’d realized that Jeremy needed a good father figure or some shit, he’d been a lot more involved in his life. Jeremy almost wished he’d go back to wearing no pants and ignoring the fact that he existed. 

Calling Jake his friend felt like a lie, but one he could deal with. He still considered a lot of people his friends, even if they hated his guts. He probably shouldn’t, since none of them had talked to him and they’d made it pretty clear that they’d never wanted to talk to him again. 

He didn’t realize that he’d been sitting there for nearly two hours, staring at his phone as he played around with whatever games he could find on his phone, listening to his music, until someone sat across from him. 

He glanced up, pulling his earbuds out. “Um. Hi?” 

Jake gave him that grin again, dropping his apron on the table. “Hey. You meeting anyone?”

Jeremy opened his mouth, before shutting it again. He could lie, say that he’s meeting up with Michael, or someone, but… Jake probably knew that he wasn’t friends with them anymore. “No, you can sit there.” He said, his voice a bit dull, even to him. He looked back at his phone, wondering why he felt like he was going to cry. 

“Oh.” Jeremy could feel the confusion dripping off of Jake. He was going to interrogate him, ask him why he was out alone, why he looked like hell, why he seemed like he was going to break down in the middle of the coffee shop. “Aren’t you gonna eat your muffin?” 

Shit, Jake was probably offended. “I’m… not hungry. And anyways, you were the one that paid for it, you should be the one to eat it.” Be polite, or else Jake will realize that he’s a horrible bitchy person. And he wasn’t in the mood to eat, anyways. Vaguely, he wondered when the last time he ate was. He realized he didn’t care. 

“Dude, I bought it for you.” Jake’s words held a sort of gentle intensity, and he folded his arms, leaning on them on the table. 

“Did you?” The words fell out before Jeremy could stop them, and he dropped his eyes immediately, staring at his earbuds and phone. 

The silence stretched on, before Jake broke it. “What’s that supposed to mean? Of course I bought it for you.” He sounded confused. Huh, he was a good actor. 

Jeremy pressed his hands to the table. Okay, anxiety, self hate, which one of you is gonna win? Apparently, the self hatred. “Did you, or did you buy it because you pitied me? Look, Jake, I— it’s nice, but you can’t just— I know you hate me.” His hands were shaking. He pressed them down harder. “I don’t need you pretending to like me, or feeling bad for me, or—“

Jake’s face was unreadable, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth a little bit open. “Jere, I’m not— why would you think I hate you?”

Jeremy was hyper aware of the fact that there were people all around them during this entire conversation. Oh god, oh god, there were people everywhere. He had to go. He did the totally normal thing that only mentally stable people did, and he bolted, grabbing his phone and earbuds and his melted, watered down coffee as he took off down the street. He ignored Jake’s call of his name, but he didn’t follow him, thankfully. 

He found himself in the park, collapsing on a bench, staring at his sleeves. This was okay, he’d be fine. Jake wasn’t doing this shit out of the goodness of his heart. He just wanted to get close to Jeremy to drop him again. So he’d stay sitting on this park bench. His gaze slid a little to the left and… oh. So it was that bench, was it? He shifted to the right, looking down at the carved marks. 

He could remember that day as well as if it was yesterday. Which was to say, since he’d been having memory problems worse than usual lately, in a blurry, puzzle piece sort of way. But there were his and Michael’s initials— Michael’s first, since he’d been the one with the pocket knife— carved into the bench. He stared at them, tracing a finger over the curve of the J. 

He went home after that, his head full of memories of him and Michael. God, how dumb had he been? Michael had been nothing but supportive of him, in the more than decade long friendship they’d had. He’d been the one to pick Jeremy up after he fell during his skater phase. He’d been the one to play wingman with his first crush, a girl named Megan in fifth grade, and the one to comfort him after she told him no to his face. He’d been his player one, his best friend, the closest thing he had to a brother, for that long, and Jeremy had thrown that away. And since they’d recovered their friendship, all their hangouts felt like they were wrapped in bubble wrap. They only talked about their issues when they were angry. Jeremy didn’t blame Michael for dropping him. 

He shook himself. Stop thinking about him, stop thinking about what you and Christine could have been, stop thinking about the play, stop thinking. He stopped on his front porch for a moment, before he pushed the door open, going to collapse on the couch in the cool air conditioning. 


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jeremy’s dad is trying his best and jeremy’s not trying at all

Jeremy didn’t move until he heard the front door open. He hadn’t even realized that his dad had left the house. 

“Jeremy?” His dad called, and there was a small noise— some sort of thing being set down on the table. Jeremy peeled his arm off from his face, blinking at the light. It had settled into evening outside, the pale sunlight sending shadows across the floor. He stared at them. 

“In the living room.” He responded. Huh, his voice sounded tired. Did it always sound that bad? God, he should get some water or something. 

“I got Chinese, figured you needed a pick me up.” His dad called back, and Jeremy had to force himself up. He hadn’t eaten in a while. He remembered the muffin— had that been this morning? God, he shouldn’t be this out of it. But he made his way to the kitchen, seeing his dad. 

His dad had cleaned up. His beard wasn’t as tangled and wiry, and he may still be losing his hair— which didn’t bode well for Jeremy in his middle aged years— but he was at least trying to keep what hair he had left neat. He was in his work clothes, and he was wearing pants, and he looked way more put together than Jeremy did. 

“Thanks.” Jeremy said, pouring himself a glass of water. He figured he might as well, with what he’d done today. 

“So, how was your friend?” His dad asked as he pulled out the containers. The lids were steamy, and he felt his stomach twist. Fuck, wait, his dad was asking him a question. He choked on his water, coughing. 

“My… friend?” He stammered out as he tried to wipe at his mouth. 

“The one you went to the work of. Jack, was it?” His dad looked up at him with his mouth twisted and his eyes soft and Jeremy felt like he was going to be sick. 

His mind flashed back to the cafe that morning— Jake’s smile, and the way he didn’t treat Jeremy coldly, and the pitying look on his face… “It was fine.” He said softly. He looked down at the water glass, at his reflection in it. He looked exhausted, elongated past the point of recognition. “The coffee was pretty good.” 

“That’s good.” His dad moved past him to grab two plates. “It’s good for you to get out of the house sometimes, y’know? It’s nice to know you have friends.”

Jeremy winced. If only he knew. “I— Gee, thanks, dad.” He muttered, his eyes averted as he piled his plate with lo mein and rice and chicken. 

His dad sighed. “That’s not…. what I meant, I just mean— you’ve barely left the house all summer, or for most of your school year…” He trailed off. The words he wanted to say went unspoken. That he was worried Jeremy was going to do something just as reckless as taking a pill sized supercomputer again. 

“Dad, I’m fine.” He said, sounding a bit more exasperated than he really meant to. He stared at his lo mein, as if he was trying to count the carrots. “I’m just, y’know. Going through it.” He tried to make a joke out of it. 

His dad’s look of concern was a little diminished by the bits of rice in his beard, but Jeremy ignored the twinge of guilt. “Are you—“

“Dad. I’m  _ fine. _ If— If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll go out and do something tomorrow. Promise.” He hated saying it, but what else was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just… stay at home and make his dad freak. He could just go sit in the library and ignore the world with his laptop. 

“You can’t just spend all your summer alone.” His dad said, looking at Jeremy. Jeremy hated this. Why couldn’t he just go back to his dad ignoring him and never wearing pants? Then he hated himself for thinking it. He didn’t want to take advantage of his dad’s poor mental health to let himself deteriorate further. But he just needed him to back off, he didn’t need him to worry about his son. 

“What, do you want me to send a picture of me with people?” He meant it to be a sarcastic, one-off comment, but his dad lit up. 

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea.”

“What— that’s not— I didn’t mean—“ Jeremy spluttered, his cheeks flushed. How was he supposed to get pictures with people? 

“Jeremy, you’ve been avoiding Michael.” 

Shit, he’d realized. Then he kicked himself. Of course he had, Michael practically lived at their house the past twelve years. It was weirder for him to not be there than to be there, at this point. Jeremy didn’t speak. 

“I’m not an idiot. I had hoped that you two could make it up. He really cares about you.”

If he did, then why had he decided to ignore Jeremy’s apologies? He didn’t know how to make it up to him. He didn’t know how to make it up to Christine, or Brooke, or Rich, or Jenna, or anyone he’d hurt. It was his fault, he hadn’t been enough for them, he’d ruined their lives. He realized he was going to cry if he stayed there. “Can I eat in my room?” He blurted out before he could stop himself. 

Before his dad answered, he grabbed his plate and his phone, disappearing upstairs. He pretended not to hear his dad calling after him. 

Jeremy dropped onto his bed, his plate perched precariously on a stack of books on his desk. He was about to start his usual pity party of laying on his bed, staring at his ceiling and listening to music on repeat, when his phone buzzed with a notification. 

“Did he really…” He started, assuming that his dad had sent him a text. And then he saw the notification.

**jakey.d21 has requested to follow you.**

Jeremy stared at it. 

He blinked, hard, and it didn’t go away. 

Jake was asking to follow his instagram, and he didn’t understand. He wasn’t following anyone, no one followed him, why was…

Before he could think better of it, he accepted the follow request. Was this a bad idea? Probably. 

He proceeded to shut down his phone, toss it to the end of his bed, and sit with his food and his laptop until he fell asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love mr heere with my entire soul and i don’t write him enough. 
> 
> anyways uhh thanks for reading i have nothing cool or funky to say so
> 
> stay safe, and stay wonderful, loves!!
> 
> ~percy


	3. three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to make up for a huge break i took,,, a super long chapter  
> sorry y’all it’s been. a time.

Jeremy woke up to sunlight through his window. It wasn’t a thrilling experience, if he was being entirely honest. It was annoying and it hurt his eyes and he just wanted to shut the sun off. He pushed himself up, running a hand through his hair. It got caught halfway through in tangles. Gross. 

He stumbled up to shut the curtains and collapse back into bed and sleep for the next five hours. His foot hit the corner of something on his floor, and he glanced down to see his phone. He shifted, nudging the phone with his sock, and the screen lit up. Huh, he had a notification. Bending down, he picked up his phone. It took three attempts for his fingers to work and type the right passcode.

**jakey.d21 wants to send you a message.**

Jeremy groaned. When he’d been craving people texting him, he hadn’t thought Jake Dillinger would be the one to do so. He braced himself for a text about how he had talked to their other friends and decided Jeremy wasn’t worth a second of his time. 

He fell back onto his bed, opening the message. Or, better yet, three of them. 

_ [ Hey man I didn’t mean to freak you out yesterday. U doing okay? ]  _

_ [ You looked kinda tired and i haven’t seen u around school and shit ]  _

_ [ if you want you can come back to the coffee shop u can i still owe you a muffin ] _

Jeremy stared at his phone, at the pulsing screen, at the question, at the concern. Was this real? He dug his hands into his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. Fog erupted behind his eyes, his head feeling warm and cloudy. Was that the dehydration? He didn’t know. 

When his vision cleared, the texts were still there. Jake was probably kidding. But… what if he wasn’t? What if he was genuinely sorry for… what was Jake sorry for? He didn’t freak him out. Well, he did. But it wasn’t Jake himself, it was the idea of Jake being nice to him. 

He accepted the message, and then realized that he had no way of knowing how to respond. When was the last time he’d texted someone? He was rusty. Not that he’d done it frequently before all this, which was the saddest thing he’d ever thought, but god, he forgot how friends worked. As evidenced by his dad making him take pictures with people. Where was he supposed to do that?

Well… the coffee shop was as good a choice as any. It wasn’t like he had anyone else leaping at the chance to hang out with him. So he stumbled to the bathroom, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He tried not to look at himself, as a general rule, but something made him do a double take, a flash of bright blue that made his blood freeze. 

When he looked at himself again, he was normal. Just Jeremy, no bright blue flickers in his eyes. He didn’t dare check how he looked, well, physically, like he used to. His face was enough. His skin was paler than usual, or maybe it was just light compared to the dark circles under his eyes. His hair was a tangle of snarls and curls, and he looked like he was about to either drop dead or start eating your brains. 

He shoved the zombie thought out of his head, breaking the gaze of his reflection. He hated this. He wanted to stop thinking for a moment or two. So he turned up his music as loud as he could as he showered, trying to ignore everything running through his brain. 

Jake wanted to see him. Maybe it was all in his head, but Jake hadn’t seemed… mean. Sure, there was the pity muffin, but… maybe it was like an olive branch. A very sugary, chocolate flavoured olive branch, but an olive branch nonetheless. 

He realized he’d already decided to go to the coffee shop anyways. Why else was he showering? It wasn’t due to any hot dates he had coming up. 

And then that decided to crop up thoughts in his brain of Jake Dillinger and coffee shops and dates and— he turned the water to cold in a flash. He had to clear his head. That was an absolutely insane idea. He was probably just touch starved. 

Cold water or not, the thoughts kept cropping up as he headed for the coffee shop. He’d found it on accident before, so it took him a while, which ended up with him rolling up to the shop at the same time as before, his hair still damp. 

Jake wasn’t at the counter. There wasn’t anyone there. Jeremy felt his stomach seize up— was he there for no reason? Was the place even open? Jake wasn’t working here, he was pulling a prank on Jeremy, he’d probably—

Then a head poked out of the back room, and a fraction of Jeremy’s anxiety disappeared. Jake was at least working. Why was he so excited to see him? He didn’t want to be. 

And then Jake’s eyes, in their cursory sweep of the otherwise quiet shop, landed on him, and Jake smiled. Ah. So that was what it felt like to be on the receiving end of affection. He’d forgotten. And then he immediately chastised himself for sounding extremely emo.

Jake left the back room. “Hey. Sorry about yesterday.” Was Jake Dillinger apologizing? Jeremy hadn’t thought he did that. “You good? You kinda left in a rush.”

Jeremy faltered for a moment as Jake leaned his arms on the counter. It made him just a little lower down than usual, his eyes level with Jeremy’s. Jeremy looked away abruptly. “I— yeah. Um. Just..” Shit, think of an excuse. He left the iron on? He didn’t know how to use an iron. His dad texted? He hadn’t checked his phone, had he? Fuck, Jake was staring at him and tilting his head like a curious puppy. So he settled for raising his phone. “I— got your text. So, um, here I am. Unless it was a joke. Then I’m… not here?” 

Jake laughed, and it took a moment for Jeremy to realize that it wasn’t  _ at  _ him. Had he made a joke? He forced out an awkward laugh. “You’re funny, Heere.” Jake said, straightening up. “You didn’t respond to my text, I thought you were ghosting or something.” 

That almost made Jeremy burst into laughter. Jake thought  _ he  _ was ghosting? Jeremy thought of the fact that he hadn’t had a notification from anyone for nearly three months. But he shoved that away. “Sorry, um. Woke up late, that’s all. And— and figured it was too late to text you, anyways.” He shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets, praying the counter hid the fact that he was fidgeting with his phone, turning it over and over and over in his hands. 

“It’s all good, man.” Jake said with a grin. It was the kind of grin Jeremy had heard described as gorgeous. He tried not to feel his own lungs stop working. He wasn’t some girl gossiping in the cafeteria. Not that he listened to them. He just kind of wallflowered. He wasn’t the creep everyone thought he was, he just faded into the background and had the unfortunate talent of being noticed at the worst possible times. Like during the squip fiasco. 

Fuck, Jake was saying his name. “Jere. Jeremy. Jerry boy.” 

Jeremy startled. “What— sorry, um— Jerry boy?” He raised an eyebrow. The nickname caught him off guard, but oddly, not in a bad way. 

“You weren’t answering me otherwise! What was I supposed to say?” 

“I— sorry.” He internally cursed himself, imagining a tiny him in his head kicking his brain. 

“You just kinda— zoned out.” There was a little furrow in Jake’s eyebrow, like he was actually concerned. Jeremy quickly changed the subject, before his brain decided to do something stupid, like feel happy that someone appeared to give a shit. 

“Um. Can I have an iced coffee? Medium.” He always got a medium of everything. If he got a small, he got paranoid about people around him thinking he just had a tiny bladder, which he felt like normal people under the age of sixty-three didn’t think about, and if he got a large, he felt greedy. 

“And a muffin. You’re not allowed to deny it.” Jake said, a bit accusingly. For a moment, Jeremy panicked, but it seemed to be in the same way his dad said things like that. With an air of slight confusion, but also affection. 

“I— god, fine, whatever, I’ll take your pity muffin.” He was surprised to find he was actually kind of amused. Huh, okay, that’s a new feeling. And then it’s crushed by the thought that Jake really is just pitying him. He busied himself with pulling his crumpled money out of his pocket. 

But Jake only grinned at him, rolling his eyes. “You’re weird, Heere.” Jeremy’s stomach twisted into a pretzel at that. He was weird. And Jake was smiling. And then Jake slipped away to get his drink, returning to the counter to slide the coffee and the muffin bag towards him. “I can’t promise it’ll be great, but I have actual work to do. But in… two hours, I have a half an hour lunch break, and we can talk. If you want to, I mean.” 

Talking. When was the last time anyone offered to do that with him? He didn’t even know what to talk about, at this point. How he spent nearly two weeks staring at his ceiling, how he nearly flunked half of his finals, how he couldn’t even think about Michael without bursting into tears. 

“Yeah.” He managed to stammer out, before taking his coffee and his muffin to the far back table and sliding into it. 

He ended up pulling his laptop out of his bag, staring at his screen. 

One of the perks of having things to say and no one to say them to and a laptop no one else sees is that there was a Docs app. Jeremy had been writing long-winded, emotional letters to all of his ex-friends for months. He’d heard journaling was helpful, but this was more some sort of sick twisted therapy. 

His letter to Jake was short. He’d barely factored him into the equation at the beginning. Most of it was an apology for the play, and taking his ex girlfriend from him (and promptly losing her by being an ass), and for almost fucking his other ex girlfriend. He glanced up at the other boy, just writing,  _ I’m sorry for refusing your pity muffin. _

The next two hours of his time was spent going through Twitter and Tumblr, ignoring the fact that there were people around him and his coffee was watered down and the muffin, sadly, was gone. He retained about two bits of information— one, the muffin was good, and two, Jake was really good at keeping his cool. 

A lady had come in with the attitude of someone who had just seen a dog eat it’s own shit. As Jeremy watched, she almost shoved her way to the front of the line, impatiently rattling off an order. She got upset over the price, although she clearly had the money to spare, judging by her entire person. Jake kept a calm, collected smile on his face, even as she got more and more upset. Jeremy would have broken down by then. 

The lady managed to leave with her caramel mocha with soy milk and Stevia without too much incident, but Jake immediately disappeared to the back. He left a bit later, dropping down into the seat directly next to Jeremy with a groan. Jeremy flushed, slamming his laptop lid down. “Um. Hi.” 

“God, that woman is one of the most annoying people I’ve ever seen. I swear I get flashbacks every time I hear the phrase soy milk.” Jake said, letting his head lean back on the bench of the booth. Jeremy was struck with the realization that Jake was taller than he’d thought he was. And then Jake looked over at him, and at his laptop. Jeremy’s stomach twisted, staring at the nerdy stickers plastered all over it. God, did he have to be any more embarrassing? “Whatcha writing?” 

Jeremy felt his mouth go dry. “Um. A… letter?” He stammered out, his cheeks red. 

“Oh, wild. I’ve been trying to write a lot of college essays, y’know? Like, you can apply for a shitload of scholarships by just writing a bunch of essays. I can get a thousand bucks for college just by writing a thousand word essay about my extracurricular experience.” Jake didn’t pry, which made Jeremy’s heart pound a little less rapidly. 

“I… haven’t written any, yet.” Jeremy mumbled, staring at the Sailor Moon sticker on his laptop. What seventeen year old guy watched Sailor Moon, still? God, Jake probably thought he was a creep.

“What- really? I mean, I’m not great with essays. I kinda suck at words, y’know? You always seemed good at words. Well. Writing them I mean? Not speaking. You kinda fuck that up.” 

Jeremy blinked at him. “Um. Thank you? I don’t know if- if that’s a compliment or not.” 

Jake’s eyes glanced over, and he sat up straight. “Oh, my god. Sorry, I’m being an ass again, aren’t I? I didn’t mean to be a jerk, I just meant that you’re not… good at speaking. ‘Cause of the… stutter, thing, I’m just digging myself a deeper hole, aren’t I?” 

“I- um. Yeah, a little bit?” Jeremy found himself giving a slight smile. Jake sounded so embarrassed. It was a bit like watching a dog with too big feet running on linoleum, kind of a train wreck that you couldn’t help but smile at. 

“Ughhh.” Jake groaned, letting his head hit the back of the booth again. “I’m so bad at this. Words are not my strong shoot.” 

“Do- um. Do you mean strong suit?” 

“What- I thought it was shoot. Like, a good shot? ‘Cause you can’t hit the target.” 

Jeremy bit the corner of his mouth, trying not to grin. “What- no, I think it’s a poker thing. Like, card suits? I don’t know, really.” 

“See, this is what I mean. You’re smart with this stuff. Like, words and writing and stuff. All my college essays kind of suck.” Jake shrugged. “Good thing I’m not going for writing anything.” 

Jeremy bit his lip. “So… what are you going for?” 

“I wanna be a gym teacher.” Jake said with a grin. “I like kids, and talking to people, and sports, and I don’t need to fix myself to one particular sport. And if I continue doing PT, my legs will be fine, at least the doctors are telling me that. What about you?”

That question hit Jeremy like a truck. He hadn’t thought about college. He’d used to have a plan, with Michael. Michael wanted to go for video game coding, and Jeremy wanted to go for gaming journalism, and they’d be the coolest duo of people in the gaming community, and they’d room together in college and be cool. 

So much for that happening. Now… he didn’t know how to tell Jake that he wasn’t planning on going to college. What was the point? His grades had tanked, and his dad didn’t make enough to send him on his own, and he wasn’t exactly planning on living that long— Jeremy shut that thought down quickly. He couldn’t think that, he wasn’t supposed to think that. He had to think of something to say, something to do. Get Jake off the topic of college.

“Um!” He said rapidly. “Do you- do you think you’d mind taking a picture with me?” Shit, that sounded weird. “I just— um. My dad thinks I’m getting too, um, solitary? He wants me to prove I’m not just going out and spending my time alone in some cafe, but that’s kind of exactly what I’m doing, so I—“

“Yeah, sure.” 

“Yeah, sorry, it’s weird, I know-“ Oh. He’d agreed? Jeremy’s words stopped in his throat. “You- wait, really?”

“I mean, why not? Can’t have your dad thinking you’re lonely. I’ll take a picture with you. Prove I exist and all that shit.” He nudged Jeremy’s side, and Jeremy froze up a bit. 

“I- um- cool. Thanks, sorry, this is really creepy, my dad’s just— a bit—“

“Nah, you’re good.” Jake’s smile seemed a bit… off. “He’s just looking out for you, no big deal.” 

Jeremy remembered that one thing Christine had told him— Jake’s parents had skipped town. Something about laundering money. Which meant… ah. That’s why he was working here. Was he okay? He shook himself of that thought. He was Jake Dillinger, of course he’d be okay. Jeremy picked up his phone, finding the camera. “I’m… not great with selfies, so, um—“

Jake plucked his phone from Jeremy’s hand. “Watch the master.” He teased, slinging his arm around Jeremy’s shoulder. Jeremy’s head almost exploded. When was the last time he’d had someone do this? Months, at the very least. He managed to smile as the photo was taken, though. It felt awkward, faked. 

When his phone was back in his hand, he stared at the photo for a moment. It was a good photo of Jake, with his eyes sparkling and grin wide and god, Jeremy looked so awkward and embarrassed. Before he could think too hard on it, he sent the photo to his father. 

“Dude, send that to me.” Jake said, leaning over to look at Jeremy’s phone. Jeremy wondered for a moment if it was weird to notice that he smelled like lemongrass, like those little hotel soaps. He had already typed in Jake’s name to his contacts, only to realize something.

“I… don’t have your number.” Jeremy muttered. He’d gone through his phone about two weeks ago in the midst of a breakdown and deleted all of his contacts except his Dad and his Grandma. He still had Michael’s memorized, but he didn’t want to say so. 

“What? I could’ve sworn I’d given it to you.” Jake’s eyebrows furrowed, but he seemed to let it slide. “Ah, must’ve been someone else. Here.” He reached out to take Jeremy’s phone. 

Resisting the urge to pull it away, Jeremy set his phone on the other boy’s palm. Jake’s fingers hovered over the new contact button, before he paused. “You only have two contacts?” 

Jeremy felt his heart in his throat. “I- yeah, um, I just, uh. Memorize the phone numbers I need.” He felt shitty for lying, but god, he couldn’t just say that he was so sad that he didn’t keep any of his past friends in his contacts. “Must’ve forgotten yours, we don’t, uh, text often.” 

“Oh, nah, dude, it’s chill. That’s kind of impressive, actually. You’re smart, Jere.” Jake nudged Jeremy, not even looking up from the phone as he typed in his number to a new contact. He handed the phone back to Jeremy with a smile. 

“There. Now you have my number, and you can text me as often as you want.” 

Jeremy couldn’t help but smile, just a little, as he sent the photo of them to Jake. He probably wouldn’t, since it was probably just Jake being nice, but… it was oddly comforting to hear that. 

He opened his mouth to respond, when a phone started buzzing. He looked down— it wasn’t his. It took a moment, before Jake jumped. “Oh, god, that’s my break over. See you tomorrow, Jere! Text me.” 

_ Tomorrow? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys so. i’m really sorry for the uh. almost two month break i took.
> 
> its been a super stressful few weeks for me, with huge events and mental health and school and everything. writing has been super hard, and i know you guys will be really sweet and supportive, but i hope this super long chapter makes up for it!! 
> 
> i’m not sure when the next chapter will go up, but i’m trying to basically force myself into productivity to get out of my rut, so maybe it’ll be sooner than this one. 
> 
> anyways, happy holiday season, hope all of you guys are staying safe out there.
> 
> stay safe, and stay wonderful, loves.

**Author's Note:**

> so!! hi y’all im not dead. school sucks, mental health is wack, and i crave the sweet release of death, so i figured i should post this wip i’ve been working on as a cry for help and comments. kidding, kidding (kind of). but i’m trying my best to do an actual multi chapter fic, but i’m not sure how long it’ll be, or how often i’ll update. i’m always going to have a chapter ahead, so it really depends on how much i write. 
> 
> also, if y’all are interested, i may post my original work here while i’m working on that. 
> 
> anyways, stay safe, and stay wonderful, loves!!
> 
> ~ percy


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